Previously... Springtime For Someone This is my safe spaceThis is where I post, where I dream, where I hurt, and where I recover. Everybody who understands this Extras, Fun Stuff & Recommended Reading 42 Things About Me I Can Hear The Ocean. A proud member of Always go too far Albert Camus |
Here's How The Story Ends Monday, Aug. 09, 2004 - 6:56 a.m. Okay. This is the last piece of email I ever received from the Erasure impostor's latest victim, Kitscuf:
And here is the response I was forced to make:
My husband says that you can no longer be trusted, and that I am to block your email addresses from being able to send me any email, and I am to block you from being able to see me on the Buddy Lists, so that's what I have done. He is afraid Andy is still manipulating you, and does not want him to have an avenue to me, especially not through you, because Andy has already put you through so much. This termination of my contact with you is for liability and safety reasons, both yours and mine. We do not want you to be an unwitting double agent, and you can't pass along information to him about me if I'm not speaking to you. Goodbye. This reminds me of those stories I used to hear about convicted murderers receiving fan letters. Both Timothy McVeigh and Ted Bundy had a -huge- following of ladies who would write to them and send money and gifts and marriage proposals. All of these desperately empty women suffering from something inside of them that compels them to believe "I will rescue him, he will grow to love me, I can make him change." This is the same mindframe that keeps a woman in an abusive relationship until an intervention takes place. What a stupid and damaged cunt she turned out to be. Fuck you, you moron. Enjoy your ignorance, and stay the hell away from me forever and ever. --- Nevertheless, yesterday was still beautiful. John and I drove south on Skyline Boulevard in an attempt to get out from beneath the fog, and we achieved success; over at the Crystal Springs Reservoir, the fog was seen to be drifting over the coastal range like a fluffy white waterfall. We then turned west on Highway 92, and drove through the Coast Range back over to the coast, then turned north and headed home. Our road trip took about two and a half hours. ---
what you missed - what's next - leave a note THE LEGAL STUFF: All content on this site that was created by me is copyright 2003-infinity by Brin Marie McLaughlin. Steal my stuff and I'll squash you like a bug. All incoming email or any other form of communication with me is subject to publication or other distribution by me in whole or in part at my sole discretion. This diary features the sole opinions and experiences of one person, namely me, the person who is paying for this space. In the interest of safety and accountability, no anonymous input will ever be allowed here, ever, for any reason in the entire history of ever. Whenever there is a comments section appearing in this diary, it's to be considered part of my paid presence on the web, and shall be used by my readership to supplement the things I have written here with relevant information in a polite manner. Comments that do not fall in that category are subject to deletion at my whim. Your visit to my diary along with your use of my comments section constitutes the understanding of this statement. Anything else on these pages including any comments belongs to whoever created it. All external links are current as of the date of the entry in which they are first featured, but at no other time. News excerpts used here are for educational purposes and are permitted under the Fair Use Doctrine. Hold hands when you cross the street, and play nice. |